Foundations
by stargirl0123
Summary: A story of the familiar foundations of Hogwarts. However, they might not really be so familiar...
1. The Beginning

**Chapter 1: The Beginning**

Oddly enough, there are some moments when you know you are making history. Having experienced them, I find them strange, surreal. But today was different. When I stood back and looked at my future, I knew it would be the future of countless students for unknown generations as well, and I felt confident.

I had just added the finishing touches to the castle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It is a magical stronghold of promise and mystery. It will become not only the place of magical learning and inheritance of those who can wield magic, but also a place where these children will discover themselves. We have each gone through the castle, adding our own touches, deepening the mystery of this place, and choosing the places where we wish to teach and live. I created an ever-changing floor plan with swiveling staircases to keep some of the secrets of Hogwarts just that. Then, it was Salazar's duty to fortify the castle, making it Unplottable and invisible to those who hold no magic inside them. I placed the final enchantments for safety on the castle.

Stepping back, I leaned against Godric and placed my head on his shoulder. His arm reached out and encircled my waist. My dearest friend in the world, Helga, took Salazar's hand. I saw Salazar squeeze it, and he grinned at Godric, who returned the grin.

At first, the teaching of the school ran smoothly. We had determined that each should teach as he or she saw fit. Salazar taught the children of those who had already proven themselves as witches and wizards. Godric took those who could defend the magic, those who were brave and daring. I wanted only those who could carry on the magic – the scholars able to take our places when we are gone. Their intellect distinguishes them from the rest Helga, with her interest in justice and equality, would teach any who pass through our doors, I believe.

Soon, I began to send my students to Godric to learn defensive magic. Helga and Salazar saw the wisdom in allowing me to teach their students Charms. We began a system under which each teacher taught each student a few select subjects. From the nine subjects which we planned to teach, I, the scholar, took the extra and agreed to teach the magic of charms, the transfiguration of objects, and the magical properties of numbers. Helga took the study of magical creatures and plants, for she loves to be outside. Godric wanted, of course, to teach defensive magic, and he has always been fascinated with the heavens, so he agreed to share his knowledge in that matter as well. Salazar loves potions and finds interest in the future, and he will teach those subjects. We saw that the students' minds were more open and they learned better, and we agreed to continue with this method.

More and more, the castle became our home and the home of the students we taught. Helga loves the vegetable patches and the kitchens, where she often supervises the house-elves. At first, I was concerned about the use of house-elves, but Helga took me to the kitchens, and I heard every elf agree that they wish to serve our interests here. Perhaps they too sense the history being made in this castle.

Godric likes the towers of the castle, and he finds his comfort there. I think he also secretly likes the dark forest which lies west of here, for I think he likes to find the creatures within. I can not understand Salazar's interests, but to each his own. He has established his office and the living quarters of his students in the dungeons. I find our dungeons quite dreary, but Salazar finds the stone maze more comfortable than the rooms above. As for me, I like the large lake that was placed on the grounds, and I am often to be found, book in hand, sitting at the water's edge and allowing my feet to create ripples. I have also chosen a tower in which my students are to live, though my tower is rather wider and airier than Godric's. The circular walls are lined with books and a large fireplace, and the center of the room is filled with large wooden tables around which chairs are grouped. A deep blue carpet, arched windows, and a vaulted ceiling painted with hundreds of stars (for I too find the stars interesting) complete the room. Above, dormitory rooms branch off of a long sunlit corridor lined with benches and offering a magnificent view of the mountains, which I do believe I love more than the lake.

But my truly favorite place is the library. On the final day of Hogwarts' creation, Godric covered my eyes and led me up several flights of stairs. I felt us enter a large space, and he removed his hands from my eyes.

I gasped in wonder.

A high ceiling perforated with large windows shed light on a space filled with maybe five hundred shelves, all covered in thousands of books. In the very center, a collection of tables and armchairs created a place for reading and studying the works of this vast place. In the back, I could see a roped off section, presumably containing books that most of our students should not be reading.

Godric twirled me around and enfolded me in an embrace. "Do you like it?" he asked.

"It's wonderful," I said breathlessly. He smiled. "Godric, how did you do this? It would take thousands of lifetimes to create these works, and another lifetime to collect them all in this masterpiece."

He offered one word in reply. "Magic," he said. Then, with me still folded in his strong arms, he gently kissed me.

The foundations of Hogwarts were laid. Its mysteries are being uncovered, though I doubt them will all ever be uncovered by any one student. I am coming to love this place. What happens next, the story that will be recorded as history, is unknown and yet to come.


	2. Divisions

**Chapter 2: Divisions**

I emerged from the room where I teach the magic of transfiguration. This castle is large enough that I may use different rooms for each of the subjects I teach.

Slipping along the corridor, the only noise I made was the whisper of my hem and the light patter of my slippers on the heavy stone floors. I heard voices ahead, and I quickened my pace, thinking it was two students about to duel. But I halted abruptly when I recognized the voices. Its was Salazar and Godric. I peered around the corner.

"Godric, this isn't going to work." _What's not working?_

"Salazar, it's obviously nothing on your or my part. Our own students thrive in our classes, and so do Rowena's and Helga's." _Is this about the rotating class system? Godric, why did you have to bring Helga and me into this?_

"But it must be personal, because it's only your students who can't grasp potions."

"I assure you, my students do not lack wit. Rowena wanted some herself," Godric answered. That much was true. I had my eye on two students, but Godric saw bravery within and had asked to take them. I had agreed.

"Well, I don't mean to say that your students lack any intelligence, but rather that they seem to lack the will to put effort forward." _At least Salazar is being civil_. "Do something about it, Godric, because I refuse to teach those who refuse to learn." _Then again – perhaps not_.

"Perhaps you could alter your teaching methods, Salazar. Or my students might wish to use the defensive magic I teach." There was an almost imperceptible joking tone hidden in Godric's words. Salazar didn't seem to hear it. When I glanced around the corner again, Godric's hand lingered on the hilt of his ruby-encrusted sword. He looked quite menacing.

"I will not change my teaching style unless my own students begin to have difficulties with making potions, Godric."

"Well, Salazar, if you judge by your own students' standards, then nothing that you attempt to teach my students will sink in. You must teach by your standards or my students', but nobody else's. Not that I think much of your standards and requirements." I was shocked. Godric had never let slip his revulsion for Salazar's pureblood prejudices before, and I hoped that we would not be left short-staffed after this conversation. But Salazar had his own biting comeback.

"I will let into my confidence only those who will not betray our secrets to the world beyond these walls."

"And my students would? Or Helga's? Or Rowena's? If you agree that they would not, then you cannot teach by your previous standards. You must teach by theirs," Godric replied, comprehending finally that Salazar's pureblood prejudices were at the root of the mutual hatred between his students and their potions master and the cause of their poor standing, both academically and physically, in the eyes of Salazar.

Stubborn as ever and tenaciously clinging to the very prejudices that the establishment of Hogwarts had challenged, Salazar answered, "I refuse to lower my standards. It is your duty to discuss this issue with them. And if you will not, then I have nothing more to say to you on the matter." I suppose we could at least be thankful that Hogwarts would not become the setting for a gruesome private civil war. Salazar's exit put a definitive end, however unsatisfying and potentially disastrous later these events might prove, to the conversation.

As he swept away from Godric's defensive magic room, I realized that he would come down this corridor and flattened myself against the wall, embarrassed that he might find me eavesdropping, but in his anger, he did not notice me. I stepped around the corner and walked towards Godric, who still lingered outside the empty classroom, hoping to find an answer to the newly developed problem of blood prejudices that Hogwarts would soon have to face directly.

"Godric," I said, "it does you no good to fight with your best friend." He looked mildly surprised at my appearance.

"You heard everything?" he asked. At my nod, he sighed. ""I cannot believe that any student of mine would hold back in a class. I believe I taught them to have more honor than that. But still, I must speak to them. No division in Hogwarts will be aided by my negligence."

"This worries me," I admitted. "In a world like the one outside out walls, our kind are not accepted. We must find refuge within each other, but we are only as strong as we stand together here. This division… it must be stopped before it becomes disastrous for us all."

He tucked a strand of dark hair that had escaped its pins behind my ear, then rested his large hands on my upper arms. "Those who set precedents must always fear for future generations."

"That's very wise, Godric." I thought for a moment. "What would be most disastrous is if Salazar created a rift between himself and the rest of us, for he would create a rift between his students and the rest of the school. If he teaches students his… prejudices against those without "pure" blood, he will divide the entire Wizarding world, for these students are its future. He will create a rift that will endure for generations. He must be stopped, for neither those who demand purity nor non-magical folks will learn tolerance of the other."

"Rowena, dear, are you thinking too much again?" Godric asked, grinning. I laughed despite the potentially disastrous situation we had been discussing.

We began to walk to supper, Godric hugging my waist to his hip as if he never wished to release me.

"So, what do you think we will become?" he asked teasingly. I answered seriously.

"I believe that together, we will pass on the magic to the next generation. But I hope that this school will always be a stronghold and safe haven for its students – even from the prejudices of the world."

"We are making history and molding the future, aren't we, Rowena?"

"You're quite the sage tonight. I believe that we are. But history will never be able to tell the complete story." He squeezed me slightly as we walked towards a window through which one could see a golden sunset.


	3. Gentle Persuasion

Still, the fight between Godric and Salazar lingered heavily on my mind. It would have been hard to forget during supper, when they sat on opposite ends of the table, not looking up from their stew. Helga surely noticed too, for she methodically ripped her bread to chunks and cast sidelong glances at the two men. I, knowing the situation, stared moodily out at the students. Several noticed my preoccupied, dark eyes and looked up concernedly, but they were drawn back into their more trivial dramas by their friends.

The students became well aware of the feud when Godric and Salazar stood simultaneously, strode angrily to the door of the Great Hall, and faced each other just inside the door. _Are they now going to fight about this, too? Our students will know._ But the problem was solved easily, though not peacefully or tactfully.

Salazar gestured to the door. "After you," he sneered, "unless you would have me lower the standards I have about holding doors." Godric merely strode, still angrily, through the door, and as his cloak whipped about the frame, Salazar followed.

I touched Helga's wrist lightly, drawing her attention. "Helga, would you please meet me in the kitchens after supper? I think they'll be private," I said. She nodded in agreement and stood to address the students.

"Students," they looked up at the slim, forcibly smiling witch standing on the dais where the staff table was located, "you are now dismissed at any time." Some rose, but more remained seated. Helga and I swept out of the Hall, carefully lifting our hems above the rushes.

Once clear of the Hall, we turned to our right and traveled down a shallow set of stone steps. We found ourselves in a stone corridor, though it was much better lit and drier than Salazar's dungeons, and the two of us proceeded along it until we came to a large painting of fruit, some of it exotic, or at least it was fruit that didn't grow in England. Helga reached out and ticked an oblong green fruit. A handle appeared, which she turned, and we stepped into the kitchens.

Several house-elves rushed up to offer us a selection of food, but Helga quickly dismissed them with assurances that we had just come from dinner, and we took seats in wooden chairs by the fire. I waved my wand around us and said, "Muffliato."

"So," Helga said, smoothing her skirts, "what sparked the feud between Godric and Salazar?"

I sighed and answered simply, "Blood." Helga nodded sympathetically; she knew how Salazar could be.

"Salazar's been discriminating against Godric's students? Or mine or yours?" Her creased brow revealed that she was concerned for her students, but it was really unnecessary.

"No, no," I corrected her. "Godric's students do not like Salazar's prejudices, and Salazar alleges that they are holding back in his class. But, at the very least, he has no problem with our students."

Helga gasped slightly. "It is indeed a difficult crisis for us. We don't want to start a feud over blood. Somehow, this must be stopped." She mused quietly for a moment, but when she looked back up at me, her eyes were void of an answer. "Rowena, you're the clever one. How can we prevent this?"

"I don't know, my dear Helga," I answered her. "I've spoken with Godric. He realizes that his students must act with honor, and for the present, that means that they must bury their prejudices. But in the end, it would be dishonorable _not_ to fight this prejudice." Helga nodded. I continued, thinking out loud. "Meaning no offense, but the fault lies on Salazar's part, I believe. Godric's students cannot be faulted for wishing to fight this prejudice in any way they can. But it all comes back to Salazar; he is the prejudiced one. He is the one we must deal with."

I paused. Helga's eyes showed her understanding, but it was her turn to sigh. "How?" she asked me. "You know how… unreasonable Salazar can be."

"I do," I agreed. "Which is why," and here I reached the point of the conversation, "I feel you should talk to him." Helga sat up straighter, intrigued. "He loves you; he'll listen to _you_." Helga nodded slowly.

"I'll talk to him," she agreed. "But, Rowena, I don't know how much I can do. Clearly, this prejudice runs deeply – he chooses the students he teaches based on it. How can I compete with that?"

What she said scared me. "Helga, if you doubt yourself, we will only become weaker. We need to stand strong against this. And what holds us together? Tolerance! And what is tolerance? Love for everyone, regardless of whom or what they are! Love holds us together!" I hadn't realized that my voice was raised or that I was leaning forward, and I quickly fell back in my chair. But Helga smiled.

"You're right, Rowena. To persuade Salazar, I must use the one force that he does not, that he discounts. Where do you get such inspirational speeches?" She laughed and stood, as did I, and we embraced. "Besides, this is far too important for me to doubt myself about. I'll speak to Salazar tomorrow."

I nodded in agreement. We exited the kitchen together, and then parted ways: I to Godric's study, to tell him what had passed, and Helga to her rooms to ponder what to say to Salazar.

But things would not go as planned tomorrow, not at all. Each of our worlds would be slightly yet irrevocably altered, but mine would be turned upside down.

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**AN: I really want Helga to break out of the Sprout stereotype, so if I'm giving you that image, it's really not what I want. **

**And about **_**Muffliato**_**, I figured, why couldn't Rowena use it? Maybe she invented it, and it was lost until Severus Snape rediscovered it? Imagine what you will, but I used the spell to suit my needs.**


End file.
